Tales From Shively

Today's post is brought to you by my friend, co-worker, and faithful reader GS.  He had a very interesting experience yesterday in lively Shivley that he wanted to share with you, my faithful readers.  I couldn't begin to describe his experience, so he was kind enough to write about it.  I think he might need to start his own blog if he keeps on writing blog-worthy material like this. It's a bit longer than your average TWIT journal entry, but it's worth the read.

I thought I would share with you an experience I had yesterday, January 18, 2006.  To tell you about my experience with humanity or the lack thereof, I first have to give you a little background information.  As some of you may already know, we recently purchased a new(er) car to replace the old car I had for 13 years.  Before purchasing said newer car, the dealership we bought it from agreed to repair or replace an inside trim piece and the stereo.  The day that the dealership fixed these things was on the day of my almost downfall into the gutters of society.  The day was going swimmingly.  My job was busy and the work day went fast.  Then, a most gracious co-worker agreed to drive me to the dealership after work so I could pick up the car.  Actually, I had two other co-workers offer to give me a ride as well.  The dealership had my car waiting for me when I arrived and then didn’t even charge me one cent for the repairs.  After these displays of love and self-sacrifice from my co-workers and the dealership people, I was feeling all warm and fuzzy inside and proud to be an American

As my co-worker friend was driving to the dealership, we noticed that the gas stations we passed had all raised their prices from the day before.  As you have probably seen today, gas has gone up around 30 cents.  Fortunately, one of the gas stations we passed was still posting the low price they were showing two days ago.  My co-worker friend and I agreed that it would be a good idea to get some gas before going home.  Anyway, we proceeded to the dealership and I picked up the car.  I left the dealership with that warm fuzzy feeling still glowing on my face.  After leaving the dealership, I decided to not waste any time and drove straight to the gas station still showing the low price

It was about 4:45PM when it started.  As you can imagine, the gas station was very busy but there was only about a two car wait at each pump.  Still feeling the love, I got in line and waited just like everyone else.  When it was the older gentleman’s turn in front of me, he realized he was facing the wrong way at the pump.  His gas cap was on the other side of his car and the fuel hose wouldn’t reach.  Being in such a good mood, I motioned to him that I would save his place at the pump if he got back in his car and turned around.  He smiled, mouthed the words “thank you” and proceeded to do just that.  Here is where things started going downhill

By the time the older gentleman turned around and started pumping his gas, it was 5:15PM.  As I’m sitting there looking at the clock on my car stereo, I notice a car pull up behind the older gentleman whom I had so graciously let turn around so he could pump gas into his car more easily.  At this point, my blood pressure started to rise a little bit.  Then, as the older gentleman finishes up and pulls away, the new car behind him proceeds to squeeze up to the pump I’ve been waiting at for over 30 minutes.  Still trying to hang onto my warm fuzzy feeling, I got out of my car to inform the new car’s driver he had just cut me off.  As I’m talking to this guy before he puts the hose in his car, our voices start getting loud.  Within about 3 seconds, we are both yelling at each other.  I tried to tell the guy calmly that I’ve been waiting for over 30 minutes to get gas at this very pump and that he should let me get some gas first.  He starts yelling some crap back at me that he’s been waiting longer and he accused me of just pulling up to the pump.  As we are yelling at each other, another car pulls up behind this guy.  I look at the second car and it has a lady driving it.  Shifting my focus to a different person, I decide to plead my case to the lady and ask her to just let me fill up quickly before her.  All I received from the lady was a dagger death stare and refusal to comply with my request.  By this time, the gas station is completely packed.  There were also cars waiting out on the street to turn into the gas station.  This gas station is located on Dixie Highway and for those of you who know how busy Dixie Highway is, you can imagine just what all the stopped cars were doing to the traffic.  Dixie was now becoming a death trap around the gas station due to all the cars in line.  I’ve heard that price dictates demand, but this was getting ridiculous.  Mustering up all the warm fuzzy feeling that was left in me, I looked back at the car the lady was sitting in.  After I got her attention I told her, in the most syrupy/sarcastic voice I could muster I told her, “God Bless America, ma’am.  I’ll see you in church on Sunday morning.”  As I was walking back to my car, I could literally hear her screaming something at me through her car windows.  The guy that cut me off also said something obscene at me as I was walking away.  By now, I was lividly mad but quite aware how close I was to ending up on the 6PM local news.

I get into my car and drove off.  By now it is 5:30PM and 45 minutes of my life have been wasted by idiots.  I needed to go someplace to pay a bill before 6PM and drove to that place immediately.  As I’m driving, I start calming down.  The Third Day CD playing on the stereo kicks to the next song, “You Make Me Mad.”  I start laughing at myself and the situation I just left.  By the time I get to the next place and pay the bill, I’ve basically calmed completely down and even had regained some of the warm fuzzies.  I decide to stop at a different gas station on the way home because I really did need gas.  As I’m driving home from Louisville, every gas station I pass has already changed their prices.  Now, the warm fuzzies are starting to flee again and I become obsessed with finding at least one gas station that is under $2.30 per gallon.  You see, every gas station that I passed up on Dixie Highway in favor of the one I wasted my life at was showing $2.29 a gallon.  By golly, I wasn’t going to settle for anything more than that.  Once I crossed the Kennedy Bridge, I stopped at three different gas stations that I know to be a little lower priced than all the others.  Each one I stopped at was showing $2.39.  It’s as if as I was driving to each one, the previous gas station was telling the next one, “Hey, Greg’s on his way!  Jack your price up before he gets there

After driving by the third station, I had basically lost hope of finding a decent priced gallon of gas.  I decided to just settle for whatever the Marathon station in Sellersburg was showing.  My house is close to that station and I could just slip home quickly and quietly after I finished fueling.  As I pulled up to the Marathon, I looked in disbelief at their sign showing $2.49.  Now this was just way too much.  The Marathon was so quiet; I had my choice of all 10 gas pumps.  I pulled in and stopped my car next to the end pump.  I sat there muttering to myself about what I should have done to those people back on Dixie Highway. I was going over all the different possible things I could have said and done and basically mired myself in my own self-pity.  After sitting there for about 5 minutes by myself, I decided I had to try to salvage as much dignity as I could.  I was going to drive through Sellersburg to see if I could find at least one gas station that was even one penny less than $2.49.  I had a choice to turn right or left when pulling out of Marathon.  I decided to turn right and drive toward the local JayCee food store.  Then, on the road up ahead, just like the song, I saw a shimmering light.  It was like a desert oasis with the palm tree and everything.  I had to rub my eyes to make sure I wasn’t seeing imaginary things.  Hanging from the top of the palm tree was a sign that said “Swifty gasoline, $2.18.”  I couldn’t believe it.  I was in shock and there were only a handful of cars waiting in line.  I got in line.  Surrounded by the local country folk, I started to get the warm fuzzies back.  The people in line were cordial, even with the customers that pulled up to the gas pump the wrong direction.  I was feeling so good; I even helped an older lady pump gas into her car

Within just a couple of minutes, I had filled up my gas tank and I was driving home.  As I was driving home, I started wondering what God was trying to tell me.  That Third Day song kept ringing in my head.  Without getting to philosophical, I’ve come to the conclusion that it just doesn’t matter what people do or say to me.  No matter what people do or say (unless they actually stab me or something), I’m still going to be breathing and the world isn’t going to come to an end.  Does it really matter if someone cuts me off in a line?  Of course it doesn’t.  From this point on, I’ve decided to pursue having as oily of a back as a duck.  For those of you that really know me, that’s a really big hurdle for me.  Hopefully I’ll have that Third Day CD playing the next time I’m trying to pump gas.